Cleaning Up the Fallout
by mastermoriarty1895
Summary: Steve's first time finding Tony drunk in his lab. Sorry the summary sucks. Stony. Dedicated to Loki.


_**Dedicated to Loki. Much thanks for the feels that prompted this one, darling. Sorry it's so terrible. It started out in one direction and then went everywhere else. No it's 10 in the morning, I'm going to bed because otherwise I'll write a novel, haha.**_

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**Cleaning Up the Fallout**

**Stony**

Steve sighed and pressed the down button on the elevator, a plate of steaming food in his hand. Tony was supposed to have been up for dinner four hours ago, but with all the chaos that is feeding time in Avengers tower, Tony's absence hadn't been noticed by anyone other than Steve. This, of course, was mostly due to the fact that Tony was rarely ever around when group events took place, fighting baddies aside.

Over the few months he'd been living in the tower, Steve had gotten to know all the other Avengers pretty well, including Tony. He'd noticed that Tony's sarcasm wasn't born of spite or superiority, but out of fear. He snapped at anyone who got to close, anyone who so much as brushed into his walls. As loud as he was, he also reserved. He was closed off and defensive. His reputation meant nothing to him but a shield, a way of keeping the public, and anyone who didn't really know him, at arm's length.

Steve had gotten to know him, mainly through observation and a few one-sided conversations, because the insults didn't really count as responses. He realized he'd been wrong that day in the helicarrier, Tony wasn't just some rich playboy, he actually cared about people, though he'd never admit it.

Steve broke from his thoughts as the elevator dinged. He got off and walked down the long hallway that lead to Tony's lab. Not very many people were allowed in there. Bruce and Pepper, because he trusted them, and Natasha, because nothing could keep her out if she wanted in, and Tony got tired of having to change the key pads every week, so he allowed her a code of her own. Steve, however, had gotten a code from JARVIS, after Tony nearly blew himself up and Steve broke the glass (bullet proof, six inches thick) to get to him. Soldier's instincts and all that, he'd told Tony.

The doors whooshed open seconds after he entered the code, allowing Steve to enter the big, mainly empty but somehow completely cluttered, room. He winced at the volume of the music, knowing it was no use to ask JARVIS to lower it. Tony would just have him turn it on again. He looked around, expecting to see Tony working feverishly underneath one of his cars. He noted three new pieces of junk but no Tony. '_Projects, not junk, grandpa.' _A voice in the back of his head that was way too close to Tony's corrected him.

He shook it off and turned around, almost dropping the plate when he saw Tony. He was sprawled across a desk, blueprints sticking out from under him and various machine parts falling off the table every time he moved, which wasn't often. Steve rushed over, dropping the plate in the bin next to the desk. He looked Tony over, quickly reaching the deduction that he wasn't hurt, not physically, at least.

"JARVIS, shut it down!" Steve called out. The music died with a whine, leaving Steve's ears ringing. He grabbed Tony's arm and tried to right him, but he slumped back down and Steve barely kept him from hitting his head into the desk.

Steve huffed and grabbed the almost empty bottle out of Tony's hand, throwing it upside down into the bin on top of the food. "Dammit, Tony." Steve barked when Tony whined, blinking blearily up at him.

Tony shrank away from Steve, making him feel guilty. "Dammit, Tony." He whispered, this time for an entirely different reason.

He sat Tony up again, this time supporting him the whole time instead of letting him stay up on his own. He wrapped on arm around Tony's waist and lifted him up, adjusting so he was carrying him bridal style. "Just don't puke on me, okay?"

Tony grumbled something unintelligible and pressed his face into Steve's chest. Steve blinked down at the lanky genius in his arms and felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. He wouldn't deny his attraction to Tony, after all you'd have to be blind not to notice his good looks, but lately Steve had found himself admiring more than the genius' ass. He enjoyed the arguments they had, because he liked hearing Tony's voice. He liked watching Tony work, his eyes darting from blueprint to machine to digital reference, his hands working too fast for Steve to keep up. He liked listening to Tony brainstorm, even if he couldn't understand much of what was being said. And he suspected that the genius didn't find his presence nearly as annoying as he had in the beginning, if the playful edge Tony's sarcasm had adopted was any indication of how he felt.

Steve tightened his grip on Tony, clutching him to his chest so as to not drop him. He walked out of the lab, calling out to JARVIS and asking him to turn out the lights. He kept his eyes forward, not even glancing at Tony when he grabbed a fistful of Steve's shirt. He entered the elevator and maneuvered around awkwardly, trying to press the up button without smacking Tony into a wall.

He sighed in relief when he finally got it and slumped against the back wall. He looked down at Tony for the first time since leaving the lab. He almost burst out laughing, the idiot had fallen asleep. Steve huffed out a laugh and shook his head. How the hell was he going to get him in bed now? Just leave him in those clothes? Steve looked back down at the sleeping genius. His clothes were practically covered in grease and splotched with still wet patches of alcohol. He would not be happy if Steve put him in bed like that.

The doors opened with a ding, the eighth floor was where the Avengers bedrooms were, and Steve prayed no one had gone to bed early. He stepped out of the elevator cautiously and began down the hall that lead to Tony's room. It was just typical that he'd have the room furthest from the elevator.

Steve crept down the hall as quickly as he could while still being as quiet as possible. He didn't hear anyone around, but living with two master assassins had taught him to always be on his toes.

He made it to Tony's room with no incidents or run-ins, thank God. Opening the door was surprisingly easy. All he had to do was turn the knob, which, with Tony pressing himself ever closer in his sleep, wasn't much of a challenge. Once inside Steve kicked the door closed behind him.

"Okay, Tony, wake up." Steve said, setting Tony down on the bed. "Come on, wake up long enough to change into pajamas or something."

"No." Tony choked out, not letting go of Steve's shirt.

"Yes. Let go, Tony." Steve told him, gently prying his fingers off his shirt.

"No." Tony drug the 'o' out as he tried to grab Steve again.

"Tony, stop it. Just, sit there for a second, okay? I'll be right back." Steve backed away from Tony's reach.

"Promise?" Tony whined.

"Yes, I promise." Steve rolled his eyes. Tony was such a child when he was drunk. You'd have thought that with all of Pepper's moaning about his drinking habits he'd have been a bit more violent or something, not that Steve was complaining.

Steve entered the adjoining bathroom that was a fixture in every room in the tower. He grabbed a washcloth from the counter and wet it with warm water. It probably wouldn't do much about the grease, but he could at least get some of the spilled alcohol off of Tony. He turned around and made his way back into the bedroom where Tony was waiting in the same place Steve had left him in.

"Okay, Tony." Steve knelt in front of him. "Let's take off your shirt." Steve pulled on the hem and, after receiving no resistance from Tony, pulled the shirt over his head. He looked around for a clothes hamper or something, but finding none, sighed and balled up the shirt and tossed it into a corner.

"Now, let's try to clean you up a bit, hm?" Steve murmured as he began to wipe down Tony's chest. "My mom used to do this when my father would come home drunk after the war. She'd clean him up and put him to bed with a kiss." Steve chuckled. "She never got angry at him. I think she understood why he did it. At least, she understood better than most wives."

Steve finished wiping down Tony's chest, and moved on to his hands. "She was a great mother. Never complained about anything. Complaining doesn't change anything, she said. If you're really bothered by it, fix it. She was a sweet woman, but God help us if we stepped on toe out of line." Steve finished cleaning Tony as best he could. The grease was a lost cause, though. "Alright, let's get you to bed, okay?"

Tony nodded, yawning. Steve doubted he had any idea what was going on.

"Okay, stand up. Pants off." Steve ordered, pulling back the covers.

Tony complied the best he could but the pants got stuck on his shoes and he tumbled into Steve. "Sorry." He slurred.

"It's alright, kick off your shoes, I've got you." Steve held Tony up as he struggled to kick off his shoes. When he finally got them off he collapsed against Steve.

"I'm tired." He muttered, pressing his face into Steve's neck.

"Uh, yeah, okay. I-I got that." Steve stuttered. "Lay down on the bed, then."

Tony and fell onto the bed. Steve laughed and pulled the blankets up over him. "Okay, go to sleep, idiot."

Steve's words fell on deaf ears, as Tony had fallen asleep the second his head had hit the pillow. Smiling and without thinking, Steve leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Tony's forehead. "Goodnight, Tony."

Steve left Tony's room and made his way to his own. He didn't know why he'd done that, and he really didn't want to think about it right now. He numbly put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth. He settled into bed for the night, but he didn't go to sleep.

His thoughts were racing. His attraction to Tony, Tony's drinking habits, and_ what the hell had made him think it was okay to kiss him?_ And would this be the last time? The last time he found Tony almost passed out in his lab? Or was it just the first? What about all the other times Tony had stayed in his lab when everyone else was up stairs? All the time he'd been alone? Was he drinking then, too? Steve figured he knew the answers, but he really didn't want to admit that to himself.

He fell asleep somewhere around two in the morning with one last thought floating in his head. One day the dumbass was going to kill himself and Steve would be powerless to stop him. Because Steve couldn't stop the things Tony did when he was alone, he could only prepare himself for the fallout and clean up the mess when it was over.

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**_Thanks for reading! Please review! :)_**


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